


Ticks

by snowydragon



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowydragon/pseuds/snowydragon





	

Grissom shifted lazily on the sheets as he opened his eyes. A new week had begun. He turned his head and his nose was assaulted with vanilla. No, it was not from cookies or candles, it was from her and that made him smile. Every time he smelled that scent he thought of her and he smiled even in the super market when he was buying flour because the vanilla was in that aisle.

He heard her move and buried his head in the spot between Sara’s shoulder and neck. Where the scent was strongest.

“Mornin’,” Sara mumbled into her pillow. Well, she groaned in annoyance more than anything else. Grissom had to pull away to hide the smile forming on his face. He found her morning grumpiness endearing after all this time. At first, it was a shock to see that particular quirk because he was a morning person, but he had learned to love her mumbling as she made coffee. She had insisted early on about making her own coffee.

A little later, Grissom sighed as he heard her clattering in the kitchen. Probably looking for her favorite mug, he thought as he finished buttoning his shirt.  

_Every time you take a sip_

_In this smoky atmosphere_

_You press that bottle to your lips_

_And I wish I was your beer_

_And in the small there of your back_

_Your jeans are playing peek-a-boo_

_I'd like to see the other half_

_Of your butterfly tattoo_

“I’m off to work,” Grissom said as he grabbed his keys from the counter. Sara did not turn around. She just mumbled agreement. Grissom headed out the door knowing it would be a good hour before she would speak in complete sentences. He shook his head good naturedly as he climbed into his car.

Grissom winced as he entered his office and saw several mountains of files on his desk and…both of the chairs in front of his desk. He tossed his keys onto a pile and it promptly fell to the floor. Grissom sighed as he bent down to pick up the files. It was a paper work day, he thought miserably.

The paperwork seemed never ending and after a few hours Grissom found himself rubbing his neck too much. He decided to take a stroll through the lab to check on everyone’s progress. He found it relaxing. After talking with Archie and Nick, he found himself outside the layout room talking with Robbins. He and Robbins turned when they heard a stifled shout.

“Greg, hang on, its not a band aid,” Sara grumbled sternly gritting her teeth so she did not shout at him, “You have to take your time.”

 

Grissom finished with Robbins and found himself leaning on the layout room door trying to hide a smirk. Greg had started to peal some warped photos apart, but he seemed to not be doing it up to Sara’s standard.

Grissom’s eyes wandered over Sara. He loved looking at all of her, but today it was her hands that caught his attention. They were so delicate and strong. He watched her meticulously handle the photos as she used tweezers to pull them apart. The cadence of her voice as she instructed Greg only strengthened the image. She could fire a gun and yet…when she laid them against his chest or wrapped them around his neck playing with his hair, it sent his heart rate into a still indescribable rhythm. He didn’t just love her hands. He wanted them. Grissom had to shake his head to pull his thoughts back to the task at hand.

 

“How’s it going?” Grissom straightened to his full height, as he stepped fully into the room.

“Good,” Sara distractedly replied not looking up, her attention absorbed by the photos in front of her.

“Are those the damaged photographs from the Herbert case?” Grissom deftly moved around the table to stand at Sara’s side.

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool,” Greg said as he started to tug on a corner, “I never knew about emulsion and base sides. And it’s so rare to find actual photographs...” he continued not noticing he was tugging slightly too hard on the photos he was working on.

“Greg,” Sara tight voice rose over Greg’s eager one, “pay attention to what you’re doing.” Greg closed his mouth with a snap, fell silent and looked at what he was doing.

Grissom eyed the pile of photographs that still had to be gone through. He watched as Sara picked one up testing to see of it was just one photo.

She was about to put it aside when Grissom noticed the thickness of the photo was odd.

“Hang on,” Grissom reached to take the photo from hands, gently. “I think this is two photos, not one.”

Their hands stayed together on the photograph for a second as Sara looked at him and then back down at the photograph. She bent closer deftly removing his hand from the photograph.

“You’re right.” She picked up her tweezers with her other hand her focused on the task at hand.

Grissom stood next to her watching the process with fascination. Sara hit a tough spot and shifted to get a better angle causing her and Grissom’s hips to collide.

Grissom jolted and was fairly certain Sara jolted as well because she stopped working at the photos.

“Hey Sara, how should I arrange these?” Greg inquired with out looking up from his now separated photographs. Sara slowly and silently moved away from Grissom to help Greg.

“I’ll be in my office, if you need anything.” Grissom wasn’t quite able to keep the intimacy out of his voice as he left the room. Sara’s smell and her hands in his mind long after he was out of her company.

 

_Hey that gives me an idea_

_Lets get out of this bar_

_And drive out into the country_

_And find a place to park_

 

Grissom found himself still buried behind his paper work. He had managed to clear off the two chairs but his desk was still covered. He tried to work but he found himself smelling vanilla when he shouldn’t. An image of Sara came to mind. It was a common pose for her, but one only he ever got to see. She loved to sit in the window seat in the living room and read. She never made noise even when she turned the pages. She was always so intent on whatever book she happened to be reading. Sometimes he would come home and she’d be there curled in a blanket or leaning-forward, a cup of coffee in her hand. Grissom leaned back in his chair thinking of those rare evenings together when they would both be reading. Her feet would be in his lap and sometimes, sometimes, he would look up just when she had licked her finger to help turn a stubborn page. He always lost his place in his own book whenever that happened. What really made him breathless was when she would get a small smile on her face when reading…he often wondered if it was because of him or the book. It didn’t really matter he loved that small, private smile that never really occurred in any other situation. He wanted to kiss those lips right now….

 

_'Cause I'd like to see you out in the moonlight_

_I'd like to kiss you, way back in the sticks_

_I'd like to walk you through a field of wildflowers_

_And I'd like to check you for ticks_

 

Sara had held her breath until Grissom left the layout room. She had been thinking about him all day. She still could not stand the fact that he was always so chipper in the morning….but watching him walk around the lab or talking with the lab techs never failed to enthrall her. She had been in the layout room when she heard him talking to Archie and she could not help but look up from the file she and Greg had been poring over.

He just had this commanding tone of voice that seemed to rumble, especially when he started to get tired. She loved when they were laying in bed talking, both of them looking at the ceiling, his voice always seemed to drop an octave. His guard went down and he was just with her.

And that was truly sexy. He wasn’t thinking about bugs or crime scenes or the universe. He was strictly focused on them.

It always felt like she had become his universe. She never admitted that thought to him. She didn’t need, too. It was enough that he could make her, of all people, feel that way. And it always happened first through his voice, but then he would follow that up and build on it with his lips, hands….

 

_I know the perfect little path_

_Out in these woods I used to hunt_

_Don't worry babe, I've got your back_

_And I've also got your front_

_I'd hate to waste a night like this_

_I'll keep you safe you wait and see_

_The only thing allowed to crawl all over you_

_When we get there is me_

 

On weekends, he was always up before her. When she finally was alive after preparing her coffee, she would turn around and lean on the counter and watch him. He would always sit at the kitchen table two papers in front of him. He always read them from cover to cover. He had his reading glasses on, but that never diminished his eyes. He had _eyes_ she thought and watched them move over the black and white words as meticulously as his body walked through a crime. He was just so unaware of it, that poise, that self-command. She could see the words being processed by his eyes and even more quickly by his brain.

 

They always turned sapphire when he read papers. The hue in his eyes changed all the time and she never tired of observing and logging those shifts into her memory. It was, she admitted, her favorite experiment.

If only he knew what those eyes did to her even when she was grumbling and growling while making her coffee and watching him make breakfast out of the corner of her eye.

 

_You know ever guy in here tonight_

_Would like to take you home_

_But I've got way more class than them_

_Babe and that ain't what I want_

Sara could not quite focus on the photographs.

“Greg,” Sara cleared her throat, “I’m going to get some water.”

Greg nodded not looking up still striving to grasp the technique of dealing with melted emulsions.

Sara slowly took several sips from the fountain down the hall and when she stood up she could not hide the seductive grin that crossed her face when she saw the clock on the opposite wall. It was almost time to go home.

 

_'Cause I'd like to see you out in the moonlight_

_I'd like to kiss you, way back in the sticks_

_I'd like to walk you through a field of wildflowers_

_And I'd like to check you for ticks_

 

Grissom arrived home only to be attacked by a slobbering Bruno. He bent down to pet him and commenced playing with him for a few minutes. When he stood back up to his full height he inhaled. The house smelled of dog, vanilla, and coffee…?

Grissom suddenly moved with the realization that Sara had left the coffee pot on. He ran into the kitchen and was greeted with semi solid goo spilling over the counter top and a slightly blackened patch on the wall and cabinet near the coffee pot.

Grissom sighed as he started to clean it up. When he had taken the pot to the outside garbage and cleaned what he could in the kitchen he fell into the couch with a groan. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. And there it was. That vanilla smell. Grissom cracked an eye open and realized Sara had left her blanket, which she usually used in the window seat, on the couch. Grissom inhaled and curled into the blanket as his eyes closed again wishing it was her wrapped around him instead.

 

_An’ oooh, you never know where one might be_

_An’ oooh, there's lots of places that are hard to reach_

_I gotcha_

 

Sara was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she sat in traffic. Her favorite band was playing, but she was not singing along because all she could think about were Grissom’s eyes. Once the traffic started to move she began to smile…

Pop!

Sara jumped a little in her seat when she heard an all too familiar and unpleasant sound.

 She had a flat.

 Sara could not prevent the groan that left her lips. She was in the middle lane and had to squeeze between cars to get to the shoulder. She got out of her car and immediately started for the trunk. Soon Sara was crouched in front of the flat loosening the bolts with a practiced if slightly sluggish ease. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was go home and give Grissom a long and somewhat involved kiss.

 

Grissom roused when he heard a creaking. He opened his eyes and was off the couch and opening the door before Sara had even pulled her keys out of the lock.

 

“Where have you been?” Grissom smiled, tugging at her jacket sleeve and pulling her inside.

 

“I got a flat,” Sara sighed wrapping her arms around his neck her fingers playing with his hair.

 

“You forgot the coffee pot again,” Grissom rumbled playfully as he pulled her along the length of his body.

 

“”Oh! I’m sorry,” Sara murmured in an absent tone, as her mouth began to wander over his neck.

 

“Yes,” Grissom groaned as her lips finally reached his. Their eyes locked for a second before they got lost in a world of hands, lips and body heat.

 

“You know I’ve been thinking about you all day?” Sara whispered as her hands crept over his shirt quickly unbuttoned several of the top buttons so that her fingers could roam over the strong expanse of his chest.

 

“I had no idea,” Grissom mumbled against her lips and turning so that she was walking backward toward the bedroom. He buried his head in her neck, smelling for a moment before licking it slowly trying to eat the scent he loved so much, “I’ve been thinking about you for years.” Sara ran her hands up his back and groaned a little.

 

“Guess its time for us to get reacquainted,” Sara said looking into his eyes as she finished unbuttoning his shirt.

 

_I'd like to see you out in the moonlight_

_I'd like to kiss you, baby, way back in the sticks_

_I'd like to walk you through a field of wildflowers_

_And I'd like to check you for ticks_

_Oh, I'd sure like to check you for ticks_

_Come on…_

 

Song: Ticks ~Brad Paisley

Lyrics: Brad Paisley, Tim Owens, Kelley Lovelace


End file.
